


RED

by LeoDrayThanatos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoDrayThanatos/pseuds/LeoDrayThanatos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red. There are red roses. Living, breathing, growing, dying flowers. That's what they do. They are created, artificially or naturally. They grow. They breathe. They are cut and sold. They struggle to keep breathing and living. And on some day, they just no longer have the ability to keep breathing, to keep on living. Instead of keeping up the fight, they give in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RED

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: hey guys~
> 
> This is just a short oneshot I had in my mind for quite some time and just wrote down last night.
> 
> Please tell me, what you think of it...!
> 
> My thanks go to my lovely beta ElsaShawcross~ 
> 
> And now, enjoy~!

RED

Red. Most know this colour as the colour of love. On Valentine's Day, the "Day of Love", everywhere you look, you see red. Red hearts plastered on the walls and hanging below the ceilings in the buildings; thousands of red roses in every store, whether they were made out of sugar or chocolate, and even those with the writing "made in China" on them. And of course, there are red roses, the real stuff. Living, breathing, growing, dying flowers. That's what they do. They are created, artificially or naturally. They grow. They breathe. They are cut and sold. They struggle to keep breathing and living. And on some day, they just no longer have the ability to keep breathing, to keep on living. Instead of keeping up the fight, they give in. They die. The only thing that doesn't really change throughout this whole process is the colour of their petals. Those stay red until after they have died.

Red. The colour of the drops falling down. Red drops falling all the way down to the ground. They look like rain, red rain falling down on to the earth. But that is alright. Because, after everything that happened, people do not deserve the cleaning clear rain offered. No, they deserved rain red like the blood they spilled during all those years.

Red. A colour you can't forget to imagine seen during a war. And it always is terrible if you have to see liters and liters of the red liquid. If, it at least would have been for a purpose; a reason worth fighting for. But it wasn't. The people behind all this red were no people. No. It was one man.

One man, who wasn't content with ending one war. One man, who manipulated hundreds and hundreds of young, impressionable minds, because he didn't have enough fame already. One man, who held almost every single one of the most prominent and influential positions there are, but didn't have enough power. One man, who was beyond corrupted by the power he wielded.

Red. The colour I first was confronted with when I was four and accidentally burned my family's breakfast when cooking it. The colour, I didn't live through a week with my family without seeing it since.

Red. The colour red. The one thing constant in my life since I can remember. Though, my life started out like a rose's. First, there was the green, before the first red petal shows. Since that day when I was four, red was there. Always.

Staying with me when my cousin found it the most fun to chase me around and beat me up. Staying with me when I first entered a whole new world, though, that world should have always been mine. Staying with me, when I had to kill a man for the first time. When I had to face a giant and deathly snake on my own. The red even stayed with me when it was threatened by the green from the beginning.

Red. The one thing that helped me to move on. That helped me to keep fighting. Going forward while being stabbed in the back by those I trusted. When I had to find out that my friends were paid to be my friends. With my own money. That I had no idea I actually possessed it. That was taken from me, ever since I ended up alone.

Red. My only way out when I thought I was lost in my pain. When I didn't know how to keep going on. When all I wanted to do was, to give up.

Red. Another red did I find later. This red was different. It was the red of two orbs looking like the precious red stone. This red I learned to associate with love. Or at least, with what I thought to be love. After all, I haven't learned what 'love' was, exactly. The only kind of love I knew was the one I found in red. In my one companion, until I found my second one about two years ago.

Red. I almost always only saw my precious red orbs in my dreams, because it was almost impossible to see them in reality. Therefore, I had to see my red at least every second day. I wouldn't have been able to function otherwise. After all, everything was a lie. My whole life was nothing but a bunch of lies. And if something was not a lie, there still was some hidden betrayal concealed inside.

Red. The only true thing in my life.

Red. My one true companion.

Red. My one true friend.

Red. My precious orbs of red. Never again would I see you unless I give in to my desire. At last.

Red. My precious orbs of red. I am the reason you'll never again see what I'm looking at right now. I am the reason you left me. I am the reason I am now sitting up here all by myself while I hear the liars and betrayers, as well as the manipulators and the sheep, the cowards and the puppetmaster's puppets celebrate. I am the reason that they celebrate that I no longer am able to see you.

Red. I think about giving in.

Red. Like roses, I can't keep on fighting. I can't keep on breathing. I can't keep on living. Because you are gone. And I have only myself to blame. I took out my one and only reason to keep going on.

Red. Drops falling down all the way to the ground, like rain. Rain, that gets heavier and heavier, since I finally give in to my only friend. We met when I was four. I fought his wish of me giving in to him since I was eight. And now, after nine years, I give in.

Red. By now, it was like a small river flowing down from the highest tower of the castle. The red river was suddenly disturbed by something following it like a stone. Then the stone crashed on the ground in the middle of a small, red pond.

Red. It won, after all. I gave in to my friend's wish and my desire.

Red. I followed my friend's begging of giving in and could finally be happy.

Red. Red orbs. His red orbs. That was what greeted me once I opened my eyes after my most awesome flight. The flight freeing me.

Red. I was home, at last.

Red. The colour of love. The feeling I could finally experience the way I should have much earlier, but was not allowed to,

Red. The colour of the start and the end of my suffering.

Red. The colour of the start of my final happiness.

Red. The colour of love. Also, the colour of my love's orbs.

Red.


End file.
